


Can't Love Me Like You

by rellanim



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12492808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rellanim/pseuds/rellanim
Summary: In which Heechul is Han Geng's make up artist and of course, Geng is smitten.





	Can't Love Me Like You

Hankyung was staring at a sea of fire.

He was staring at it for a minute now and his eyes were starting to hurt from the strain of not moving downwards where he could see another sea of proof-why-there’s-God-because-who-could-create-something-as-amazing-as-this-face. Some strands were framing this angel’s face quite nicely and Hankyung fought the urge to twirl them or push them away from his pale, milky skin. Hankyung’s breathing was beginning to get uneven and clattered the closer he could feel this angel’s breath on his own skin; his hands getting clammy from fiddling with the chair support for the last five minutes.

Hankyung was feeling very much like a 14-year-old teenager who got his crush up close for the first time, not China’s Most Wanted Leading Man for two years, China’s #1 Man I Would Hit On the Streets for seven years and China’s Best Man with the Best Ass in Leather for eight years and counting.

“Really,” someone said—someone who was decidedly close to Hankyung’s face— _too close_ for him to stare without his eyes drowning in the brown of Kim Heechul’s eyes. “I could have told you’re being awkward right now, but I don’t know if that’s your default mode when you have someone lathering your face with BB Cream.”And because the Lord has decided that his creation shouldn’t have any flaw whatsoever, his voice was like butter even though Hankyung couldn’t understand a word fell out of his red lips—well except for BB Cream. Those should have been in Oxford dictionary by now.

Hankyung cleared his throat and tried to appear stern and unaffected by the distance of Heechul’s lips from his nose. This clearly never happened before and by this he meant him feeling things when having his face prep before a photoshoot. Well, he never had Kim Heechul as his make-up artist before so there’s that. He was contemplating whether he would thank Mei Mei for choosing this day to be sick and have someone cover her up or send snakes to her hotel room for bringing him to this situation and to her Korean friend.

“Hmm,” he heard Heechul say, his voice testy and calm. He pulled away for a moment, changing his large brush for the small one before reaching for a circle pot of flesh. He would have named them correctly if he knew what they were and their difference from other pots and cases aside from colors. Eleven years in this business should have taught him that much but he didn’t have the capacity to store this kind of information especially being not the brightest in his 10th Grade class and all.

Heechul was still testing the brush on his hand while Hankyung’s eyes diverted from his red hair, which was pulled up in a messy bun, to his plain, black choker necklace which should turn him off but Hankyung felt his fingers twitch as if asking his brain to let him tug it. Maybe he’s also a closeted sadist, Hankyung thought sadly.

His gaze went down to Heechul’s collarbones peeking from his overly large white shirt with an ‘I Slept with ur Daddy’ English text in pink letters. He would have wondered if Heechul knew what it meant but he seemed smarter than Hankyung so he didn’t ask. The shirt hugged his frame nicely in the waist where he could see it bundled up in his jeans. His legs were long and thick, parts of it peeking from the ripped of the jeans. He was also wearing red, high top Converse shoes.

He knew he was staring longer now but this Kim Heechul was seriously, seriously, _pretty_ he had to blink thrice before he could process in his brain that he was a _he_ during their introduction this morning. He introduced himself in accented Chinese with his name, Jin XiChe, the other end of Heechul’s lip curling up. He then reached for a short handshake and called him Hankyung, not Geng. So in exchange, Hankyung had asked his Korean name because his thinking process was stuttering a little due to Heechul’s intimidating aura. He felt like he had just talked to a whirlwind and realized he should have set that kind of standard for himself because he was the _famous one_. He had realized many things for the past hour and he didn’t think that accepting this photoshoot in Korea could be so life-altering.

Heechul then looked up from the brush and reached closer to Hankyung again, proceeding to cover all his pores with precise concealing. Heechul was looking at his face with scrutiny, his eyes focused and intense.

“Uhm,” he said unintelligently. His eyes caught Heechul’s once the latter finished with his procedure. “How did you meet Mei Mei?” He said in a much accented Korean because he thought he could start a conversation that way, and because he had no idea how to.

 Heechul smirked— _the nerve of this…this staff!_ —but Hankyung thought whatever Heechul did looked good on him, even smirking at Hankyung who felt even more stupid and awkward.

“I guess you can understand Korean, Mr. Chinese superstar,” Heechul replied in a heavily accented Chinese. Well, at least Hankyung’s Korean did not sound that terrible. “Club,” was Heechul’s answer to his question.

Heechul pointedly looked at him before he motioned to close his eyes and started putting a nude-tone eye make-up. Closing his eyes seemed like a bad idea because he could still feel Heechul’s eyes on him and could imagine his red lips hovering over his. He had wondered at first if he’s wearing lipstick but Heechul had a terrible habit of biting it every five minutes so a lipstick seemed implausible. Not that Hankyung had been counting. Of course not.

“Open,” Heechul said and he did as the latter reached for an eyeliner and proceeded to stab his eyes with it. He fucking hated pencil eyeliners.

“Hmm, you’re still not used to this one?” Heechul asked in Korean but Hankyung thankfully understood some words for him to comprehend the question. He looked at Heechul directly, who was still close but now was staring back at him. His face was, _God_ , an art of something. His catlike eyes were even more pronounced with thick eyeliner on the lid, his nose tall but not too much and his lips—well, he had said his feelings about them since a while ago.

He was starstruck-ed and it’s ironic, really. And now, Heechul’s pinky was tapping some color on his lips and he badly wanted to bite it. He wasn’t even this attracted to his leading lady who’s China’s most beautiful woman of the decade or something. Well maybe it was because his co-star was missing an anatomy he preferred.

A little twitch here and there and more cushion pads slapping his face and they were done. Heechul gestured for the hairstylist to start his work before arranging his make-up tools in swift precision for the next concept later.

Shan Shan, his cordi/stylist/friend for eight years waved a black, shiny leather pants for him and a matching jacket to change into. He nodded and grabbed the clothes in their hangers and proceeded to change in the proxy dressing room in a corner; he saw Heechul moving towards Gian, his hairstylist. He changed into the pants without ado and frowned when he didn’t see any shirt inside the jacket, but since most of the time he couldn’t understand fashion and its _practicality_ , he swiveled into the jacket and buttoned it once, his chest accentuated by the deep V of its lapels.

He swung the brown curtain and Shan Shan immediately went to him and begun probing the fabric as if molding it into his skin. He felt his neck prickling and his gaze went promptly to Heechul whose eyes were on him, intense as he devoured Hankyung from head to toe. When Heechul met his gaze, his smile was mysterious until he saw him eyeing his crotch and his obvious bulge.

Well, he could admit he was also gifted _especially_ there.

Shan Shan’s question broke the moment and Hankyung’s focus went back to her and he was ushered to his chair again as Gian worked his magic with his ice-blonde hair. Looking at the mirror, he saw Heechul still on him, now smirking as he sat two feet away, his long legs folded in quiet elegance. Hankyung smiled because he was having this moment, damn it, as Shan Shan splayed oil in shocking amount on his chest. Feeling quite awkward, he lost Heechul again and begun to ask Shan Shan about the needed outcome of the shoot.

-

The clapping of the staff and chattering of ‘Good work everyone’ filled the studio and Hankyung felt his body tire from the five-hour shoot. It lasted quite long for his liking but they had tackled too many concepts with different make-ups and hairstyles and clothes. Really, he should shot his manager once in the ass after this. Or twice. His eyes actually hurt from smoldering.

He changed back to his regular clothes, a white tank top, jeans and black and white running shoes. Since he had no other schedule after this, he prompted to his own car thinking of the comfort of his hotel room. He opened his car and sat on the driver seat, the machine groaning as it woke up with a start. He was about to lock all the doors when someone invaded the passenger seat in an alarmingly swift motion.

He was even more surprised to find Kim Heechul smiling at him, his lap full of his makeup kit. “I suppose you can give me a ride,” he said slowly in Korean so Hankyung could actually comprehend its meaning.

And because he was tired and bewildered and obviously in need of a bed and a drink, he just shrugged as if pretending not to understand the implication of Heechul’s sentence and  just smiled at him before flooring his car on the way to his hotel.

The funny thing was finding Heechul’s pretty hand upon his right thigh, splayed in disguised innocence, rubbing in slow motion in sporadic moments and Hankyung’s focus was shot during the whole ride.

And so Heechul shouldn’t be that surprised when Hankyung pushed him against his room’s door with a rushed, unapologetic motion, his body pinning him in place with no space to breathe, hands pulling Heechul’s hips against his as Hankyung kissed the daylight out of him.

His last coherent thought was him having to think of a reward of something for MeiMei and a way how they could include Heechul in his makeup team, especially if he was _this_ talented. Hankyung grinned with his thinking before letting out an embarrassing moan when Heechul finally, finally tugged his pants and underwear with a swift motion and tugged his cock with his most brilliant, pretty hands.

Really, there were approximately 1.3 billion people in China but Han Geng, _Hankyung,_ found Kim Heechul of South Korea—of all places, the most interesting one. 

 

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